FACADE
by SecretsAndLiesContest
Summary: FBI agent Edward Masen goes undercover to take down the Cullen Mafia. Falling for Bella Swan, the former boss's daughter now forced to earn her keep by stripping in the club owned by the new Family, was never in his plans. He feels the need to save her, but he can't even save himself.


**Subject/Email Header: Secrets and Lies Contest Entry**

 **Title:** FAÇADE

 **Summary:** FBI agent Edward Masen goes undercover to take down the Cullen Mafia. Falling for Bella Swan, the former boss's daughter now forced to earn her keep by stripping in the club owned by the new Family, was never in his plans. He feels the need to save her, but he can't even save himself.

 **Pairing:** E/B

 **Rating:** M

 **Word Count:** 10,494

 **DISCLAIMER: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is**

 **intended.**

 **~O~**

"The target is Carlisle Cullen, but any information you can get out of Jasper or Emmett Cullen would be useful. They own the strip club, Facade, located in the downtown area known as the warehouse district. Demetri got you an _in_ , vouching for you as having come from the Volturi family out in Chicago. Don't leave him swaying in the breeze, Masen."

"Got it, sir. My undercover assignment is to pose as a bouncer at the club, yeah?" I pushed around the papers on my desk until I found the pictures of the girls that danced at Facade. Not the cream of the crop, exactly, but there was one girl that drew my eye every time I looked at the surveillance photos. Dark doe eyes glared out at the camera, her hair a combination of pink and blonde. She looked like she could use a decent meal and her makeup was heavy, making her look tired. Something about her made me want to swoop in and protect her from the shit she must see on a regular basis.

"Right. Don't be gettin' all cozy with anyone, either, slick. Unless it furthers the investigation, I don't want you making friends. That's how you blow your cover and get caught, and that's the last thing you need."

Jacob Black was my Squad Supervisor and contact with the FBI whenever I went undercover, or UC for short. My latest assignment was to gather as much intel as possible to bring down the Cullen crime organization. Rumor had it they were the most ruthless family in Seattle since Charles Swan was killed and left the business to Carlisle Cullen. The details surrounding Swan's untimely demise were still a mystery, but all signs pointed to an inside job. Demetri Falconari was a fellow UC Agent out of the Chicago Division, my hometown and the place I'd supposedly just moved from. He vouched for me as one of the Volturi foot soldiers under his watch so that I could insinuate myself into the Cullen crew without suspicion.

"It's been almost a year since Swan bit the bullet, and we're no closer to finding out who did it. Let's get this case closed and put away a few mob guys while we're at it," Black said in his curt manner.

"Absolutely," I agreed. I left my service weapon and all of my true identification as Edward Masen with my superior. After accessing the safe and gathering all of my UC identification and a couple of unregistered weapons, I headed out.

I went back to my apartment to prepare for my evening at my new job. I had to report to Emmett Cullen at nine, ready to take control of all the losers that wandered into the nudie bar with ugly intentions. It was up my alley to protect those girls, of course, so I was confident with my ability to accomplish that task. I stared at myself in the mirror; I'd been growing some stubble over the past few days to hide a faint scar that ran along my jaw. My hair could lean toward red if I spent too much time in the sun, so I was lucky that it was the dead of winter and I'd been indoors studying the case files. I had no tattoos to leave me vulnerable to identification, but my eyes were a bit of a beacon. I slipped in my very lightly brown tinted contacts, giving my green eyes a more hazel appearance. It would be a simple thing to claim they were corrective if anyone asked. The resemblance to my undercover driver's license was identical.

This case required a complete undercover existence, therefore, I was residing in one of the bureau's undercover residences. It looked lived in, shit every-fucking-where, clothing that would fit my cover in the closet and dresser. The bathroom was stocked with typical male shit, scents I didn't usually use in the aftershave and cologne department, razors and toothpaste and any bullshit I'd need for now. My bureau assigned bank account in my UC name was set up with a modest amount of cash to get me by until I started earning at the club. My POS car was parked out front, so I grabbed my keys and headed out to get the night started.

There was only street parking, which kind of sucked, but it was to be expected in this kind of an area. I doubted anyone would want to steal the mostly rusty 1984 Cadillac DeVille with Chicago plates that I was currently stuck with. The air was as cold as my last girlfriend's heart as I climbed out and flicked the collar of my leather jacket up closer to my face, walking the few blocks to get to the club. I spotted the blinking red neon sign that said _Facade_ , and wondered who the genius was that thought they were being ironic with that name.

I stepped up to the giant redwood of a man that was guarding the entrance, sticking my hand out from my pocket as I walked up. "Anthony Di Stefano, looking for Emmett Cullen."

The bastard stared me down like a mouse running up for a bite of cheese that fell off the dude's beard. Like I'm some chump looking for a handout. Fucking asshole.

"Look, it's my first night on the job, maybe you could cut me some slack, man."

Finally some expression on the dick's face as he raised his left eyebrow. You ever see a gorilla in a three piece suit? Me either, until now.

"The boss will see you." His voice was like a dead body that's been drug across gravel for ten miles. It completely fit him.

"What, you got telepathy or somethin'?" He'd never so much as moved except for that eyebrow. I was tempted to tell the monkey to dance, but he'd probably smash me into next week like Donkey Kong.

He stepped aside, pulling the door handle as it buzzed. I could only assume they'd been waiting for my arrival, but I wasn't naïve enough to expect the welcome wagon.

It was like walking through a time machine into the seventies. Black leather couches, thinning red carpet, and red wallpaper with black swirls were the first things I noticed. The putrid smell hit three steps in; smoke, and not merely from cigarettes, bodies crammed into a warm room, and the melted fur smell that comes off of heaters sometimes in the winter.

Gee, I couldn't wait to get to work.

The next thing I saw was the stage, with three scrawny women gyrating to the stripper typical, 'Pour Some Sugar On Me'. It had a C shape with a pole at each end and one in the middle, and I couldn't help but imagine their stilettos sticking to the floor as they walked. The lights were low, of course, but I made it out to be seven customers, two bartenders, and at least five armed 'bouncers'. If there is one thing these type of assignments require, it's to know your surroundings, and the surveillance package had truly prepared me for this evening. The second largest man I'd ever seen in my life was walking toward me, a huge smile on his face. His hair was blond, a full beard covering his face. I took him to be six-five, sporting two seventy-five worth of muscle.

He stuck out his hand as he grew closer. "Anthony, right? Emmett. I hear you're a friend of ours."

"You can call me Tony. Nice to meet you." I shook the slab of beef masquerading as a hand he thrust at me and mentally high-fived him for not squeezing too hard. I didn't want to show him up on my first night and I certainly wasn't intimidated by his size. I tended to hide my muscular build pretty well under my clothes.

"Well, Tony, let me show you around."

I followed Emmett dutifully as he showed me all the areas suitable for the public. I had yet to spot either Carlisle or Jasper.

"Um, work attire…" he started. I'd noticed his fancy, well-tailored suit, though it wasn't a three piece like the goon out front.

"I'm, uh, used to wearing black jeans and a leather jacket back in Chicago. I can see you're better dressed out here," I offered. He nodded curtly.

"Tomorrow, something more upscale," he said, well, demanded.

"Of course," I replied, barely resisting a snort. Like the strippers would become classier, the clientele less trashy, if the employees wore tuxedos.

"Okay, for tonight, just do a walk around and make sure nobody is roughing up one of the girls. They can get hands-on, as long as the girl is okay with it. No sex in the club, on their own time is whatever. Got it?" He threw the words at me like a deck of cards someone had fumbled, floating out haphazardly over his shoulder as he walked and I followed.

"Yes, sir." We exited the back room onto the main floor again, after I made note of the four locked doors I had not been allowed access to. The girls on stage had rotated, and I stopped in my tracks as the girl from the picture caught my eye. Covering my stumble, I kept her in my periphery as I continued after Emmett until he brought me to a stopping place. I could see the whole club from there, so I understood the reason for him bringing me to that spot.

I took my post as Emmett walked away. The girl was fucking mesmerizing. Her hair was turquoise now, long and flowing out behind her as she spun around the pole and my mouth went dry. Her body was lithe, a little fuller than in the photo I'd studied until my eyes blurred. She looked healthier, and she damn sure looked fine with her tits hanging upside down with her on that fucking pole. All that hair swept the floor, one leg kicked out, and she spun back to right herself.

She looked right at me as the song ended, and I had to force myself not to squirm. Her gaze pinned me to the spot, and finally I had to wipe the sweat from my upper lip.

Then the new song came on and she went back to dancing, and I went back to sweeping my eyes around the room like nothing had happened.

 **~O~**

When I woke the next morning, okay, crack of noon, I reminded myself that sleep was for the weak. I was relieved to find a coffee maker and a stash of sub-par ground coffee that would have to do. My cover story would not mesh with fancy dark roast coffee. Those were the things I must sacrifice for the greater good.

I'd spent the remainder of the night at the club doing walk arounds, watching for signs of persons of interest. I didn't recognize anybody, and I'd seen plenty of photos of the players in the Cullen mafia. It was mostly a bust, including the very end of the night when I had to escort a few ladies to their cars. While escorting them, I tried to spy any of the vehicles the surveillance team had tagged, coming up empty.

We walked in a group to each girls' car, and, of course my doe-eyes was in the talkative gaggle. They thoroughly enjoyed taking turns holding on to my biceps as though they couldn't take one more step without the support. Despite feeling her eyes on me constantly—and more than once catching her staring—doe-eyes never touched me. _Pity_.

I noted that she left with another girl whose name I hadn't gotten, instead of having her own car. I found myself wanting to know everything about her; then she was gone and there was nothing left for me but getting in my car and heading home.

I couldn't sleep, memories of her plaguing my overtaxed mind. Names and faces and aliases flashed through my brain as I struggled to fall asleep. Details of my UC life crowded in, my subconscious not allowing me to forget anything, however miniscule. I finally slept fitfully, hot and kicking the twisted sheets to the floor. They were scratchy anyway, the ugly pieces of shit that they'd picked for the place.

So here I was, drinking my third cup of coffee and debating what to do for the daylight hours. I finally decided I couldn't stay cooped up here, and dragged my ass out of the apartment. I stepped into the nearest convenience store for orange juice and a donut that had probably been around since the first world war. As I walked back out, I noted the twenty-four hour laundromat, the small gym, and the pawn shop. Deciding to brave the cold for a bit, I walked north from where I was in the hopes of finding something entertaining. I was not exactly ensconced in the Palace of Versailles, so the pickings were slim.

Someone rammed hard into my shoulder, the feminine expletive making me laugh and soften my initial ass-kicking stance of defense. The first thing I noted was turquoise hair; lots and lots of it tumbling around the woman from the club as she attempted to stand up straight. My hand shot out to steady her as she tripped over her sneaker and plowed into my chest.

"Wow, I am so sorry," she muttered. Her cheeks were a fabulous shade of red as those deep pools looked up at me.

"It's fine," I murmured, stroking a hand lightly down her hair and placing a firm hand on her back to steady her.

"I wasn't watching where I was going, and then my two left feet caught up to me."

I stared at her face; the black eyeliner that was apparently ever-present, the clear brown eyes and nude lips. Something about her just _called_ to me. "A-are you going somewhere in this cold?"

She dropped her eyes and gazed back at me from under her lashes. _Jesus_. I had to reboot my brain. "I was thinking of getting warm in the coffee shop around the corner. Wanna come?"

 _Did I? You're damn skippy_. "Yes—yeah. Sure." I shrugged, trying to play it cool. _Too late, idiot_.

I followed her as she picked her way through the crowd of people that always seemed present on the sidewalks in any busy city. She rounded the brick building that I thought housed the utility company and opened the door to a bakery cafe.

The smell coming from inside was enough to make my mouth water. I knew that Tony wouldn't order what Edward would order, so I purchased a black coffee and a bagel, insisting on paying for doe-eyes. She protested half-heartedly, then blushed when she ordered a latte and a croissant.

"Call it an afternoon pick me up," she said, glancing away from me as she bit her plump pink lip.

My cock loved the idea of a pick me up with her at any time of the day or night. I told him to stand down.

We sat, and I finally got the chance to talk to her, to ask her name. She pulled her coat off and hung it on the back of her chair, revealing a white sweatshirt that kept slipping off her shoulders. She was so fucking sexy without even working at it.

"My name is Bella."

"Tony," I replied. "I just moved here about six weeks ago from Chicago, where I was born. It's certainly different."

"I suppose it must be," she agreed, pursing her lips to blow on her hot coffee before taking a sip. My eyes were glued to her every move.

"So, how long you been here?" I asked to try to distract myself.

"All my life. My dad was Charles Swan," she whispered, glancing around again.

My eyebrows shot up; I couldn't help it. " _The_ Charles Swan?" I asked quietly.

Bella nodded, and I watched her mouth as she bit into her pastry. She chewed for a minute before answering. "He died, and I've been stuck doing things I'm not terribly proud of to make ends meet. Like having to work at the club."

"So you went from high on the hog to the gutters of Seattle?" I hissed, trying desperately to keep my voice down.

She dropped her head, staring at her lap as she shredded a napkin. "I guess so."

"Why weren't you given respect and a place to live, at the very least?"

One creamy shoulder rose and fell. "Dad left everything to Carlisle, and he lets his sons run the business the way they see fit. He makes money, but he doesn't work for it."

"So, the two of them are the reason you… dance?" I demanded.

Bella inclined her head slightly. "I've been trying to find a place to rent around here, you know, to get out of the place they pay for. There are so many girls there, it's never quiet. They're always fighting, there's never any food because they eat it without replacing it. It's awful."

"There's gotta be something we can do."

I watched the tear tremble on her lower lash before she swiped angrily at it with her thumb.

 **~O~**

Bella only had one duffle bag full of clothes and another bag for toiletries. The place the dancers lived was a shithole compared to the 'luxuries' of my rundown one-bedroom. There were so many of them that they shared beds, and 'beds' was a loose term, since it was really mattresses thrown down wherever. The dining room had been repurposed into a bedroom with two mattresses and a clothing rack, and the living room was overflowing with girl junk.

We hauled ass as soon as she threw her bag into the backseat of my Caddy. I wasn't a complete buffoon, so I offered her the bedroom and said I'd sleep on the couch, which was pretty stupid of me considering that couch was six inches shy of six feet long, with me being six-two. I also knew I couldn't go sticking my dick in the first stripper that gave me her sob story, or I'd be in deep shit with the boss. I was already more than a little scared of both of my current bosses, the legitimate and the illegitimate, in regard to their reactions to Bella living with me.

Since she didn't have a car, I offered Bella a ride into work that night. It was so fucking cold the heater couldn't even make a dent, and I saw my breath puffing out every time I breathed. I tried hard not to look over at her, because she looked so fucking hot. Her mouth was painted a deep red, standing out against her pale flesh. The constant black liner was there, and she'd added some kind of eye makeup to make it all dark and hot as hell. I was thankful that whatever she was wearing was covered up under her heavy black coat. If I could actually see that she went to work dressed in stripper gear, I'd probably jump her in the car and end up with a broken nose.

After I parked, I suggested she walk separately, but she said it would be no big deal. "Nobody cares who I ride with," she insisted, climbing out and heading to the door.

"Maybe, but I'm new here, and King Kong will probably smash me into the concrete if I break a rule. Not to mention Emmett coming in as a close second in the Titan department."

I watched as the muscle in her jaw tightened at my words. "Felix would be smarter if he kept his thoughts to himself." Her jaw relaxed. "After all, opinions are like assholes, everyone has one." She winked.

"Uh…" I'd lost my opportunity to respond, as she was already dragging me up to the door.

"Open up, Mickey Mouse," she demanded, hands on her hips.

I'll be damned if he didn't just swing the door open without a word or an eye twitch. She moved over to a locker and opened it, stowing her bag and then shrugging out of her coat and scarf. My mouth went dry as she slowly untwisted the purple knit, her back to me. Her ass was shapely, curved in just the right way and perky. I wanted to do unholy things to that ass, and I knew I had to divert my attention immediately. I pretended to be messing around in my own locker.

"See ya, slick," she said as she breezed by me.

Yes, she wore her stripping outfit under her coat. Yes, it was a flimsy excuse for clothing, consisting of sheer black material showing off a thong in siren red to match her lips, and nothing else. Except for the needle thin high heels that might be the nail in my coffin.

 _Ah, fuck_.

So we continued for days that turned into weeks, the cold turning rainy and slushy. It was miserable outside, and it seemed every businessman in the city wanted to warm up in the titty bar. I was frustrated in more ways than one, because I'd seen nothing at all at work, not even the code to get in one of the rooms that had to be offices at the very least. I'd seen Emmett coming and going, and he talked frequently with one of the bartenders, a short man that had more neck than brains named Liam. I figured easily that he served as the eyes and ears for the boss. The boss that must spend his time with his feet up in his penthouse or some shit, cause he sure as shit wasn't ever here. I was actually starting to believe he must not put in any work, like Bella had said.

I had to tell Bella I was running errands a time or two to head to my meet-up with SSA Black on a jogging trail. We could basically be alone, and he always waited for me well past the busier beginning and end section of the trail. It was good to get a jog in, since the meeting was a bust; at least I wasn't wasting my time.

The other source of my frustration was Bella, obviously. She changed her hair color pretty regular, and most recently, it was blonde. I was surprised that I liked it as much as I did, but holy fucking hell she made a dynamic blonde. She had a terrible habit of walking around in long sleeved shirts just barely long enough to cover her ass and knee high or thigh high socks. I was dying, literally a man on his last legs, because pounding it into my hand in the tiny cell of a shower was _not_ working. I kept picturing her full mouth wrapped around my cock, or the legs that went on forever wrapped around my face, and I'd have to hide in the bathroom for twenty minutes to either calm down or jack off. The girl musta thought I had toilet issues.

The worst day of my entire twenty-eight years came when I was trying to jerk a quick one without getting in the shower for the third time in one day. I had my pants around my ankles, standing in front of the toilet and bracing one hand on the towel rack. Just as I was coming, I tried to grab the hand towel to catch the jizz when the towel bar came off the wall and sent me flying ass first into the cold water of the bowl. I shouted and cussed, jumping up and then slipping when my bare foot caught the water I'd splashed out, and I fell again, this time stuck between the porcelain god and the tub. Naturally, because fuck my luck, Bella came knocking on the door to ask if I was okay. I told her I'd ripped the fucking bar off the wall and that I was just fine, but did that stop her? No, it did not stop her.

Long, creamy legs came into view first until I shoved the towel and the offending bar out of my face, then I saw that blonde hair in a ponytail spilling over her shoulder, her eyes bright as she tried not to laugh at me. My ass was on the cold tile, the cracks and uneven parts digging into my flesh, my cock was laying scared and tucked into his friend the ball sack, and my knees were in the air with my feet splayed one over the tub and one over the toilet bowl. I would have gladly put my service piece to my head instead of facing Bella, but I'd turned that shit in. _Goddammit_.

"Oh, Tony. Do you need help?" She lost the battle, and went into a spate of giggles.

"No, sugar, I think I'm going to go ahead and die here, thanks. If you could just, you know, leave? I'll be fine." I watched her turn to go, the bottom curve of her asscheeks basically on display, and tilted my head enough to bang it on the tub. " _Ow_."

Though it took some maneuvering, I got my feet under me and twisted and shifted until I was out, then I just lay flat on that blasted floor while I tried to find my dignity, which was lost somewhere between the toilet and my taint. Finally getting up and fastening my jeans, I reminded myself never to leave the seat up again, and then I washed my hands and left the bathroom praying that Bella had found a reason to leave the apartment.

"You've got a bit of, uh…" _Nope, not that lucky_. "Some toilet paper, I think." Her hands brushed at my stubble, and I blinked.

Standing just outside the bathroom, she was _so_ close, her warm and spicy scent permeating my senses. It was already all over my car and my apartment, but to have such a concentrated blast aimed at my face sent another bolt of lust to the appendage I'd recently abused. Her eyes were so dark with the doe-eyed look that reminded me she was an innocent. I backed away quickly and bumped into the wall.

"Thanks," I muttered, side stepping and moving to the area known as my bedroom, aka the couch. I didn't look back to check for hurt feelings, because I couldn't have withstood that type of look on her face. I flipped on the television and pretended to become engrossed in a marathon of Emeril's cooking shows. I knew I was screwed, only not in the sense that I desperately needed. I wasn't supposed to get involved unless it furthered the case, and so far Bella Swan had less information on her father's murder than I did.

At work that night, I was roaming between tables to keep an eye on the patrons. Bella was off, and gave me more fodder for wet dreams when she told me she had plans to take a long bath and do her nails. It was odd to me that I didn't even notice the nakedness of the other dancers, but Bella could slay me with something as innocent as a t-shirt and sweatpants. Concentrating on men seated around the stage, I only half-assed glanced up when the door to the back opened and Emmett emerged with two men.

What caused me a double take was the sudden loud exchange of voices, laughing as the men slapped each other on the back. I recognized them as none other than the elusive Jasper and Carlisle Cullen. The younger man was tall and lanky, with dark hair slicked back, a horseshoe mustache, and a soul patch. The older of them, who I knew to be the don, had a pleasant, almost nondescript face. If not for the money that practically glowed with its own aura, he'd be a regular handsome guy you'd never look twice at. I moved slowly closer to eavesdrop.

"Numbers is still bringin' in the most dough, despite the few men that had to be heavily reminded to pay their shark. Ghost payroll is working like a charm; the books are sparkling clean."

Trying not to be too obvious with my staring, I glanced over as Jasper spoke. Movement between two men nearby caught my attention, and I recognized one of them as Petey Cap; he was Cullen muscle that was using this gig as cover same as the rest of us. The stranger was arguing in a low and furious voice, and I spotted the moment he grabbed for Petey's gun. Acting on instinct, I lunged in the direction of the trio that stood oblivious to the danger a few feet away.

"Get down!" I shouted, just before I grabbed the old man's shoulder and took him down with me, feeling a searing pain in my arm. I rolled with a grunt when I hit the floor, then crouched over Carlisle to be sure he wasn't hit. I looked up to see that other men had gone into action to subdue the disgruntled customer. Petey was getting the riot act from Liam, and Emmett was standing hunched next to Jasper, wide-eyed as he stared at me.

 **~O~**

There was more hubbub surrounding me saving Carlisle Cullen's life than that of the second coming. I was rushed in the back of his limo to his house where we were met by their doc, some wheezing monstrosity that you'd never take seriously in a real medical office setting. The gunshot wound was a simple through and through, and he didn't even have to stitch it up, he just cleaned it and bandaged it.

I was given a glass of scotch and a cigar, supposedly a real Cuban, and told to sit in an armchair. "Really, boys, it was nothing."

Emmett pulled an ottoman over and sat in front of me. I tried not to laugh at his bulky frame folded up onto that small seat. "You saved Dad, and we don't take that lightly. That bullet could have hit him anywhere, and none of us even saw it coming. Not even Pete, who is now facing serious consequences for being a dumbass."

Jasper spoke up from behind me. "I've been told that you do your job at the club, keep your head down and your nose clean. Although, I've also heard Bella Swan moved in with you."

 _Keep your cool, Masen._ "She said she needed a place to crash. I'm not boning her, if that's what you're worried about."

I heard a long, deep laugh from behind me, and I was positive it was Carlisle. He stepped around to the front of my chair, leaning against the arm of the long aqua couch. "I'm not particularly worried about that. I don't care which dancer you fuck; you could fuck them all and I wouldn't give a shit." He puffed on his own cigar, blowing the smoke off to his right. "You saved my life. That's what counts. You risked yourself for someone you'd never met, although I'd wager you knew who I was."

"I had a feeling, without seeing you before, that you were the boss. You carry an aura of power, Mr. Cullen."

He let out that hearty laugh again, and slapped his knee. "Anyone that risks his ass to save mine can call me Carlisle."

I actually found myself liking this guy. "If that's what you want."

He steepled his fingers in front of himself, the cigar hanging out of one side of his mouth. There was silence for several long minutes. "If I made you an offer to accept the oath, would you agree? If you decline once the offer is officially made, I won't make it again and you'll find yourself another job. Out of respect for what you've done, I'm giving you prior warning. If I offer, will you accept?"

I didn't have to think about it, since this was my goal, but I wanted to pretend I was contemplating my options. "What would change?"

"You'd hit the streets with Jasper. Collect tributes. Work with the sharks to ensure our money is coming in. That sorta thing. More money, more respect. A crew once you've learned the ropes."

"I know you worked for Aro in Chicago before, but we do things different. So I'll train you, so to speak. Then you go out and do your own. The more money you bring in, the more I'll pay you."

With more salary, I could maybe get a two bedroom from the division. It would be in line with the job, and that would mean no more sleeping on the couch because I'd dabbled in playing a knight. "Okay. I'll accept if the offer is made."

"You realize the only out is death?" Emmett spoke again, his deep voice as serious as the death he spoke of.

"I understand."

Carlisle tossed his cigar into the ashtray on the coffee table and straightened to his full height. Sensing the importance, I stood as well, and Emmett rose and moved to flank me, Jasper on the other side.

"Anthony Di Stefano, we would be pleased to hold the ceremony of Omerta with you as the guest of honor. Do you accept this offer of your own free will?"

"I do."

They slapped me on the back with general words of enthusiasm and encouragement. I was worried that I'd be expected to make my bones, and prayed that my alibi from Chicago would cover that as well. I wondered what Bella would think; she was sort of my friend, definitely my comrade. I also thought of getting a message to Black to inform him of the change.

All of this went through my head as the three men threw out dates that worked best for them. Obviously I was available for whatever they chose, or I'd make myself available; that was how this worked. They settled on four nights from now, and I agreed.

"If you ever need anything, you tell me, got it? I owe you." Carlisle was incredibly sincere, and I had to remind myself he was a criminal I was trying to pin a murder on.

"Yes, sir, thank you."

I was sent home in a limo, and shook my head at the dichotomy of the sleek black vehicle in my shady neighborhood. Bars on the windows and no cars newer than twenty years old, dealers sitting on stoops waiting for their buyers to come around. What a frickin joke.

I was surprised to find the lights off when I let myself in. I thought doe-eyes was stayin' in tonight. Leaving the apartment lights off, I headed for the bathroom and turned on the over-the-mirror fluorescents. Getting shot wasn't in my plans, but it wouldn't be the first time. I grabbed a handful of my shirt from behind me and yanked it off over my head. The bandage was probably not necessary, but I debated leaving it on anyway.

"Tony?" I heard from the direction of the living room. _Shit_.

"In here," I answered, knowing she could see the bathroom light from the front door.

She appeared, hair a fiery red and no makeup. The bathroom felt suddenly too small. "I thought you were stayin' in," I said, trying not to sound accusatory.

"I thought you were workin' all night," she returned.

I opened my mouth to explain when she gasped. "Oh, Tony, what happened?"

She was in my space before I knew what to do, one hand on my bare pec and running a finger over the bandage. I held my breath, afraid to inhale her perfume and send my already overheated system into overdrive. She dropped her purse and shrugged out of her coat; now she was less dressed and closer than before as she gazed into my eyes, waiting for my answer.

I swallowed. "I, uh, I saved Carlisle."

"Really?" she breathed, her eyes gone wide.

I nodded, my fists clenched at my sides to keep from running a finger under her tired eyes. I backed away a step and bumped into the sink. "There was a guy, pissed off at something, he grabbed for Petey's gun. I saw it, and I stepped in front of Mr. C."

"Wow. I bet he's impressed with you now, huh?" She sounded bitter, and started to step away. I grabbed her wrist without thinking.

"Hey, it's good, okay? They'll let me in, promote me. I'll get us a better place soon, yeah?"

Something in her eyes changed, became more charged. She bit her lower lip, and my eyes darted down to watch her teeth sink into her flesh. I wanted to do that; I wanted to bite her lip and so many more places. "You won't kick me out when you've made it and I'm still just a stripper?"

I laughed, the sound rusty. "No, I could never do that to you."

Bella looked down, and it felt like the spell between us was broken. "That's really sweet of you." She backed up, picking up her coat and her bag. "You shouldn't get the bandages wet," she offered as she left the bathroom.

I let out a shaky breath and pulled my shirt back on, heading to the couch to bury my face in my pillow.

The next few days flew by, and suddenly the night of the ceremony was here sooner than I would have thought possible. Bella seemed to be avoiding me, and she wasn't coming to the ceremony. The guys were; Emmett and Jasper, and, of course, Carlisle. Other guys I recognized were there, men I knew for a fact were with the Family and not merely club workers. I was introduced to new men, people whose faces I knew from mugshots and surveillance photos, but who I had to pretend not to recognize. It was mostly a giant party, and I ate and drank until I thought I should stop before drunkenly spilling my guts. Or having them spilled forcefully if I accidentally admitted I was a fed.

Finally it was time for the official part, and it didn't last nearly as long as I expected. Do you agree to keep your mouth shut, yes, I do. Do you realize we'll kill you if you break the code, yes, I do. Congrats, you're a made man for the Cullens.

They had to pour me into a car at the end of the night, but I wasn't as drunk as I let on. I had to report to Jasper tomorrow afternoon. I was no longer needed at the titty bar, which was sad, really. No more chances to see Bella naked.

I dropped the keys trying to unlock the door. Maybe I was drunker than I thought. I grabbed the doorknob for support as I bent over, surprised to find it wasn't locked. I thought I heard yelling as I opened the door, but then it was quiet. I threw my keys and wallet on the kitchen counter and peeled my jacket off.

I whipped my head to the right when the yelling picked up again. I was right the first time, and it was coming from the bedroom. It was only a few feet away, so I strode over and knocked on the door.

"Bella, you all right?" I asked loudly.

I heard a series of thumps and a loud growl, followed by a grunt.

"Tony!" Bella shouted, sounding panicked. Ramming my shoulder against the door, I managed to open it as Bella kicked and shoved at a man in her bed.

"What the fuck?"

"I told him no, but he didn't listen." She suddenly didn't seem so fragile anymore as I realized she'd knocked him out.

"Okay," I said, drawing out the word. I squatted and threw the man over my shoulder, grunting at his weight as I straightened back up. I walked him all the way down the stairs and dumped him against the building, ensuring the outer building door was closed and locked before heading back upstairs. Hopefully he'd make his way home when he came to, or be questioned by the street patrol when they found him sleeping on the sidewalk.

When I got back inside, I couldn't look Bella in the face. Here I was, wanting her with a desperation that nearly killed me, and she was bringing strangers home for a quick fuck. I left the lights off as I settled face first on the couch again.

 **~O~**

Settling in to this new life wasn't hard. I knew the ropes, and was able to provide an Oscar worthy performance. Jasper wasn't showing me anything I hadn't done through other undercover jobs. I was supposed to know the drill anyhow, so it was no big deal that I caught on quickly. The accounts he gave me were easy, the type of men that paid on time with no complaints. I was raking in money, and I knew that I had to be somewhat judicious with it seeing as how I was a fed and it was dirty money, but I was getting a two bedroom apartment and fuck the consequences.

I met with Black on the trail weekly, giving Bella the excuse I was out for a jog. Technically, it was true, because I did jog to meet him. Bella didn't care anyway, because she kept disappearing on days she wasn't working, and I wondered if she had a boyfriend she didn't want me to know about. Black said an apartment was fine, but anything expensive had to be approved, so I was stuck with the rusty bucket of bolts I was still driving. I thought for a long time about giving Bella money for a car of her own, just something cheap, because she was always taking a cab or the bus, and I didn't like the thought of her being unsafe. I struggled with the idea that I might be falling in love with her, because it seemed like only an idiot would find themselves in that situation. Her well-being was important to me in a way that proved I was in over my head, while she hardly noticed me.

I wanted to bring up the idea of a car to her, so I went home midday to ask her what she thought. She was usually home until late afternoon or early evening, 'cause she was too broke to really do anything before work.

When I walked in the front door there was a large, dark haired man sitting on my couch, a.k.a. my bed, that I recognized. It was a guy in the operation known as the Garroter. His real name was Garrett Russo, and he was infamous at the division for being one of the bloodiest enforcers in the Cullen family mob. As his nickname suggested, his favorite means to an end was a piece of thin steel wire with a handle on each end. He was known to be ruthless and cold-blooded, and here he was chatting with my roommate.

Bella was sitting there across from him on the coffee table, leaning towards him like they were deep in conversation or they were about to make out, I wasn't sure which. She was a deep, dark brunette these days, with winged eyeliner and a full sixties vibe. Her minidress showed off her long fucking legs, her boots thigh high and sexy as fuck, as usual. They looked new, and I wondered where she'd gotten the money. Irrationally, I wondered if the Garroter was her pimp now.

"Home early, aren't we?" she asked casually as she looked up at me.

"I didn't realize the queen was coming for a visit, sorry." I said snarkily. "I left my tiara in the car." I dipped into a fake curtsey.

"Why are you here, Tony?" she asked, though not unkindly.

"I wanted to have a word with you, about somethin' that's been buggin' me, but apparently you're busy."

"You can come by the club tonight. I'm sure they'd still let you in the door." She smirked.

"As long as Felix hasn't found reason to be pissed at me, yeah."

Garroter said nothing, but he watched the both of us as we spoke like it was some kind of sick tennis match. When Bella stared at me, I realized they were waiting for me to leave so they could resume what they were doing.

"All right, I'll see you later, then." I backed out, disgusted at feeling like I had to leave my own apartment because of whatever she had going on.

I was worked up, pissed off, and a little short and terse with my customers the rest of the day. Not that they were going to complain or anything, seeing as how they had to pay me or face worse consequences, like the fucking Garroter. They probably wouldn't start with him though. I'd heard of a Jimmy Two Face, dude that had a wrecked face after an accident with acid. He was usually sent in for the kneecap busting with a ball bat if someone was late with their cheddar.

That night at the club, Felix did indeed let me in without pause, though it wasn't like he smiled at me or any such pleasantries. The girls on stage were the usual pale, scrawny girls that I was used to. God only knew how desperate the fuckers in this town had to be to come to see this chicken flesh on stage. Musta been hard up at home. I found Bella dressed for the stage, sitting in the employee lounge with knee high socks and a fucking school girl outfit. Her hair was in pigtails, and that was all it took for my soldier to stand at attention. I was such a goner.

"Bella," I greeted her tightly.

"Tony," she acknowledged as I sat across from her at the tiny and very sticky table.

"I wanted to ask your opinion on picking up a small and cheap car for you. I don't like you spending so much time on the city bus, and I know you don't really have the chips to pay for a taxi."

"You're serious?" she said, doubt in her voice.

"Yeah, or I wouldna said it." She made me feel shifty when she looked at me that closely.

"You really are a good guy, aren't you, Tony?" Her brow was raised, and I tried hard not to squirm.

"I guess. All the girls want a bad boy though, so it sucks for me in the long run." That was absolutely a dig at her meeting earlier with Garrett.

"Um, something super cheap though, right? I don't want you spending a lot of money on me. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Yeah, just a beater to get you to work and back. I mean, I know you do other stuff, too, so it has to run and all." I suddenly couldn't bring myself to make eye contact.

"Maybe we can take some time this weekend and look," she agreed.

So that's what we ended up doing. We perused the papers on Saturday and Sunday, and called a few people. I looked online at classified type sites. We had a really good time looking around, driving all over the city and test driving cars. Most were serious pieces of shit, and we still hadn't found anything by lunch time Sunday. We sat at an outdoor burger place as the Spring air tried it's best to climb out of the high fifties. We had grease running down our chins as we laughed and talked about the bigger place we were going to look for next weekend. We would finally have the space we needed, with a bedroom for me and a living room that wasn't doubling as a bedroom. It was the relationship we'd shared at the beginning, and I realized with a sharp pang that it had moved into vague acquaintance territory recently.

Finally we found something, and it was just perfect. It was a tiny hatchback that had seen better days and had so many miles on it I would swear the odometer should just be rolling over to one any day now. Doe-eyes was all smiles as she got in it to drive home after some paperwork and some cash had been exchanged. We agreed to go first thing the next morning to file the paperwork to make it official.

It had been a really good weekend, so when Monday rolled around bleak and stormy, and I was cranky from a lack of sleep, I tried not to take it out on her. I tried, I really tried, but I hadn't slept soundly since accepting this job three months ago.

"Garrett's gonna take me to do the registration, Tony," she announced as she came out of the bathroom, face made up and looking too sexy for running errands. Her jeans were plastered to her legs, and her t-shirt was thin and holey.

I couldn't take it anymore. "Seriously, Bella? I go outta my way to buy you a car, and you ask your boyfriend to get it registered for you? Am I literally that much of a schmuck to you?" My words exploded from my mouth without thought or consequence. "Is Garrett putting you up? Is Garrett looking out for you when you bring guys home that don't take no for an answer? No, that's _me_." I dug my thumb into my chest. " _I_ put up with all of your shit, just to be stepped on time and time again."

Her eyes narrowed, and I watched as she went from sweet and agreeable to ice cold bitch. "I appreciate your gesture, Tony, but if you bought me the damn thing just to get in my pants, you can take it back. Sell it for scrap metal for all I care. You offered to help me, remember? Don't throw it back in my face because your long term goal didn't work out. You and me, we're friends. So take your woe is me bullshit and shove it up your ass."

She grabbed her purse and slammed her way out of the apartment.

I dropped heavily onto the couch and put my head in my hands. I didn't think I had been expecting payment for the nice things I'd done. Hadn't I sat by silently while she'd brought men into my apartment? Hadn't I let her date whoever she wanted and never hinted that it wasn't okay or that I wanted more? I was the nice guy, letting her do what she wanted with whomever she wanted. All I wanted was to spend more time with her, to finalize the paperwork on the car I'd paid for. But no, Garrett was clearly her boyfriend for now. So she was dating an enforcer, and a brutal one at that. Considering what she went through with her father's death, I couldn't believe she was willing to trust someone from the organization.

 **~O~**

I spent all my down time looking for a decent but cheap two bedroom apartment. I really couldn't kick Bella out, despite our disagreement. I'd promised to bring her with me when I moved, not to mention that I still felt like her protector. I snorted as I circled yet another possibility in the newspaper and then downed the last of my beer. Bella had an enforcer for a boyfriend. I sure as hell didn't need to get between the two of them. Hell, maybe she'd move in with him and I'd be off the hook.

I scrubbed at my eyes. I'd been worrying more than sleeping. I needed fresh information, but my only lead was Bella, and she knew nothing. I hadn't seen Carlisle since the Omerta ceremony, and even Jasper had backed off and left me to my own devices. There was something I was missing, but I didn't know what. It was there, just on the edge of my brain, but I couldn't grasp it.

There was a knock at the door, and I went to answer it. Felix was standing on the other side, and I lifted my brows in shock. What the hell did he want from me?

"Felix," I greeted him as I opened the door, not truly expecting a decent reply. Felix was the strong and silent type.

"Boss wants to see you," he said in his gravelly voice. It made me want to offer him a throat lozenge.

"Sure thing. Let me grab my stuff."

My keys and my wallet went in my pockets, and I shrugged into my leather jacket. The air had warmed slightly over the past month, but it was still wet and fairly cool.

Felix took me to a sleek black car with darkly tinted windows. He was lucky it hadn't been stolen or chopped while he was upstairs waitin' on me. The back seats were plush leather, not surprisingly, and I leaned back into the comfort. I realized that Felix was more than merely a doorman for the club, but I was still curious why he was picking me up. I remembered the area that Cullen's house was in, the sprawling red brick mansion that was overly decorated in an 80's theme. I closed my eyes for the fifteen minute ride, but I couldn't let my guard down, so I changed my mind. Sitting upright, I glanced out the dark windows and realized we were going in a different direction than the one I'd expected.

Ice swam in my veins before I reigned in my gut reaction. Panicking wouldn't get me anywhere. "Ya know, Felix," I started conversationally, "I've been to the old man's place, and this ain't the way."

I waited for him to take the bait, but he remained silent. _Shit_. I rolled my shoulders, taking a critical look around the interior of the car to judge what could be used as a weapon. Unless I could steal the side piece from the Hulk, I was thoroughly fucked.

By the time we pulled up to massive wrought iron gates I was sweating. I wanted to convince myself that it was just another mansion out of the many Cullen probably owned, but I didn't really believe that. The house was massive, all white stone and windows. After we passed through the gates the driveway made a loop around a fountain that sprayed jubilantly. There were blood red flowers planted around the base, making me chuckle wryly at the symbolism.

Felix parked and opened my door, standing like a sentry as I got out. The iron gates had slid smoothly closed soon after we entered, so my last choice was to stare up at the front door and face my fate. The steps were wide and curved, and muscle man followed me as I climbed them. I stopped at the immense door and frowned. Felix solved my dilemma by knocking loudly once and pushing it open for me.

Our footsteps echoed as we walked through the three story foyer, and I wiped my clammy hands on my jeans as I worried over what they knew. Was I being called on the carpet? Had I fucked up a collection, or a payment? Were they pissed that Bella was still with me?

Or had they discovered my closely guarded secret?

Felix stopped at a closed door, then knocked before opening it, much the same as what he'd done at the front door. I had no doubt that security was high in this place and that every little move was recorded on CCTV. The room we entered was white, like most of the rest of what I'd seen of the house. Felix left me alone, so I walked around with my hands in my pockets, trying to look casual and not scared as piss. I knew when I was being left to stew, probably in the hope that I'd break and start babbling about my secret. I was more seasoned than that, had been in similar situations before, where the best thing to do was to keep my mouth shut and not act suspicious.

Finally, after what felt like hours—but was likely only thirty minutes—had passed, the door I'd entered through opened. I didn't turn, instead schooling my features into an impassive mask. I would let him come to me, let him try to break my cover, and hope I didn't die today.

"Hello, Edward Masen."

My heart thudded painfully as a million thoughts raced through my head at my real name being spoken, and not only that, but the fact that the voice was feminine and intimately familiar. I'd obviously made a wrong turn somewhere, let my guard down where I shouldn't have, something completely and utterly stupid. But it couldn't matter, because she was just a stripper, after all.

Wasn't she?

I turned finally, facing one Isabella Swan, dressed to the nines in a skirt suit and three inch pumps. Her makeup was flawless, her hair brunette and flowing over her shoulders in meticulous waves. My mind flashed back to our first conversation, and the first night at the club after she moved in with me.

 _My father was Charles Swan._

 _Felix would be smarter if he kept his thoughts to himself._

I scrubbed my hands over my face. _Fuck._

"You have two choices. One of them is to work for me. The other is death. Make your decision."

Her voice was stone cold, devoid of emotion. What would she demand of me now that my cover was blown? As an agent, I couldn't work for her in good conscience. Neither could I let them kill me.

I raised one eyebrow as I looked her up and down. She didn't flinch or fidget. "You're going to have to explain things to me, doe eyes."

Her eyes narrowed at the nickname, and she finally moved, coming to stand closer to me. "I could say the same thing to you," she challenged.

"From where I stand, it looks like you have all the answers between us."

Several more minutes passed, and I refused to acknowledge the cold sweat trickling down the back of my neck, or the fact that my heart was still galloping in my chest.

Finally, Bella pointed to a chair. I sat obediently, looking up at her expectantly. She took the other seat, crossing her legs at the knee, looking like an entirely different person in this setting than she did at home or at the club.

"I told you my father was Charles Swan," she started, and I nodded. "Somebody high in the organization had him killed, but I haven't yet figured out who. I only trust Carlisle, Garrett, and Felix. Those are the only three people that know the truth. When Dad died, Jasper suggested to Carlisle that _they_ deserved my inheritance, because I'm only a girl, after all," she sneered. "Emmett vehemently agreed, and I haven't forgiven them since. Carlisle runs the day to day operations, sending his sons on errands meant to make them feel important, but they're peons. _I_ run this shit."

She stood, pacing the room with her arms folded, but it wasn't long before they were flying as she gestured with each word spoken. "A year, and I'm no closer to finding out who betrayed us. I choose to live under their noses, undermining them every chance I get. They want to see me as the dirt poor stripper? They want to laugh at me because they took what was mine? That's _fine_ ," she spit. "But when I catch who had my father killed, God help them if they were involved. I'll cut them down without thinking twice."

Fuck, she turned me on. I cleared my throat. "So Garrett and Felix are your eyes and ears? That means you aren't dating the Garroter." Thank God for small miracles.

"No, I'm not dating Garrett." Bella spun to face me. " _You_ , you were a twist in my plan I couldn't have seen coming. But I know people in Chicago, I know people in the Volturi Family. It didn't take much digging to find out only one person had heard of Tony Di Stefano, and after that little nugget of information, I hacked the FBI's facial recognition software. I'm not as uneducated as the boys in this Family seem to think."

She paced again, stopping at the bar in the corner and pouring herself a drink, throwing it back before looking at me again. "Imagine my surprise when you didn't come back as some petty conman, or even local police, but goddamn FBI. I haven't told anyone, not even Carlisle. I don't want to force his decision between me and the safety of his crew." She took a deep breath and leveled a stare that went straight through me. "God knows I tried to stay away from you. In the beginning, yeah, I tortured you. It was easy, and you were so cute trying to be a gentleman." Her expression clouded over. "But you're a fed, and I'm the head of the Mafia. There's nothing for us to do but work together."

I stood, slowly stalking her across the room. Bella all but admitted she was into me, and I didn't know what to make of it. I wanted her still, I had wanted her from the moment her surveillance picture captured me. She'd just lost her father when that was taken, and made the decision to hide in plain sight as a stripper. Now, she was offering me a chance… to do what, exactly?

"So I help you track down Swan's killer, or you'll kill me?" I clarified. As I drew closer to her, she backed away until she bumped into the wall.

"Yes," she breathed, her hands flexing on the flat surface behind her.

"And you don't want to explore whatever might be between us, because I'm a fed, even though you've given me no choice but to break the law to work for you?" I leaned in close to her, caging her against the wall with my hands on either side of her head.

She nodded, the pulse in her throat jumping.

"But you _do_ want me, don't you?" Leaning even closer still, I stopped an inch away from touching her lips with mine. My pants were so tight it was painful. I had no idea where my morality had gone, but she did that to me.

Bella's eyes drifted closed, then popped back open. She licked her lips and swallowed. "You need to make your decision." She failed to sound as stern as she did when she previously made her offer.

"Oh, I've made my decision. Now it's up to you." I heaved a huge breath. "Either kiss me or kill me; I have no other options."


End file.
